


You Can Be King Again

by Marinia



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angry Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Gen, King Roman Sanders, Prince Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Roman Going Apeshit, Sanders Sides Lore, Sympathetic Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, post-episode: Putting Others First, set directly after the new episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:13:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23972095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marinia/pseuds/Marinia
Summary: Roman's left the debate, doubting everything he's ever known.He's given up so much, just to be good- and now, the villain had a seat at the table, while he'd been cast aside.Well. Not anymore.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 58
Collections: TSS Fanworks Collective





	You Can Be King Again

**Author's Note:**

> Listen. I love Roman, and I think he deserves the world. But also, I can' see his arc ending without him becoming a villain. And I frankly don't want to. 
> 
> He's earned himself some wrath. 
> 
> also, this isn't beta'd, i prefer to Die Like Men

_ “Right.” _

Roman sank out, teeth bitten together to hold back a laugh. It wouldn’t be joyous or bright or charming; wouldn’t befit a Prince- not a Prince who was  _ good _ . It’d sound hollow and choked-up and like his hands were shaking and his eyes were burning and- 

He screamed. He screamed past the sobs building up in his chest. They hurt- it felt like his heart was beating out of tune, against his ribs and his lungs, until there was no space for anything but the breathless, structureless  _ noise _ forcing its way out of his mouth. 

Roman grasped at his chest, as if he could contain it, this dreadful feeling. But he was powerless in its face, could only bear witness to his own emotions turning against him as they tore through his body, leaving him weak and shaking. He staggered back, fell onto his knees. They scraped, but it was almost a relief; something sharp and real and physical. 

Deceit-  _ Janice _ , the villain and the one they  _ listened to-  _ had claimed that mental health should be treated like physical health. Roman could only laugh at that claim. If such things were true, then it wouldn’t have been  _ right _ of him to choose the wedding. It wasn’t right to hurt oneself, after all. 

But not when  _ others _ were on the line. No, of course not. If someone else needed it, you should jump in, let your blood flow instead of theirs. And goodness… he’d bled so much. He’d been  _ good _ , he’d been selfless and he’d put aside his desires, his wishes, his  _ purpose _ \- he’d tried so hard. 

And yet. And yet, they listened to  _ him _ . And yet, they preferred a snake. And yet, he was the villain at the end- was no better than the brother he’d abandoned, because it’d been the  _ good _ thing to do. Because a hero couldn’t be close to the villain he was meant to fight. 

Roman laughed, again. Harsher, not so teary. What had it gotten him, being  _ good? _ Thomas’ career was at a stand-still. He was miserable because of the decision Roman made. What good had he put out into the world? 

Roman’s laugh turned into a snarl. But that wasn’t the point anymore, it seemed- it was all about the  _ why _ and the  _ how.  _

Well, he’d only gotten them to reject him while twisting himself into a Prince without any subjects. A net-negative, as the snake would call it. A complete failure, as Roman saw it. He wiped away the tears on his face- they stained it, not that he noticed, tracks of gold that shone in the hesitant dawn sun. 

Roman looked up. He was so  _ tired _ of trying. So tired of goodness, of the ever-changing standards of behaviour he couldn’t keep up with. Before him stood a throne, old and grown over with vines, flowers and ivy. They reached out to him, when he moved to touch. He knew this place. 

He looked around as he stood up. The old room was just as he remembered it. The high ceilings were lined with stained glass, casting a red light over him. The garden in the middle of his room had taken over everything- it’d climbed up the dais until it’d covered the throne as well. 

The stone was threaded with gold, and Roman almost remembered sitting in it. Remembered being whole, being a  _ King _ . 

He’d given that away too; Patton was the father figure. He was just the better piece, the  _ Prince.  _ But it was obvious he’d never been as good as they wanted him to be. Prince Roman took the crown that lay on the right arm of his throne. Romulus had taken it off, before he let himself be divided by Morality. Prince Roman sat on the throne he hadn’t even dared to think about for twenty-five years. Prince Roman set the crown upon his head, and watched the throne room  _ pulse _ . 

The flowers bloomed and the ivy, the vines, the very trees, they all reached out to him. The sun rose over the horizon, a new day at last. The dust covering everything turned into gold, shimmering in rainbow colours. A long, red cape draped itself over his shoulders. The redness in his eyes disappeared, and the grief in his heart dissipated. He knew it’d never take residence there again; he wouldn’t let it. 

King Roman stood, and took out his sword. He was bathed in golden light. His white, mortal skin washed away. He was ready to  _ conquer.  _


End file.
